A Crafter Quilts a Crime

by Holly Quinn

  Heidi moved closer to the window. “Sammy, her lips are blue. Something’s wrong. It’s super-hot in the display. There is no reason her lips should be blue. I promise you. It’s not even remotely cold inside there … I near roasted to death.”

  Heidi began to tap on the window lightly, and then Sammy banged her closed fist on the glass. Heidi grabbed Sammy’s wrist and the two rushed indoors. They flung open the black velvet curtain, and Sammy began yelling, “Wanda!”

  Heidi’s nursing skills sprang to action. She jumped inside the window and checked the woman’s neck for a pulse. Heidi looked at her cousin and shook her head. “Sammy, I think she’s dead.”

  Chapter Three

  No. This can’t be happening. No … not tonight … not Wanda.

  Sammy had to blink several times to focus, because she couldn’t rationalize the distorted image of what was taking place in front of her.

  Her cousin.

  Dressed in an Ice Princess costume.

  Performing CPR on Wanda inside the display window of her beloved shop.

  As much as Sammy wanted people to stop gawking in horror at the scene playing out before them, the shock in her own body wouldn’t allow her to move a muscle or look away either.

  “She’s gone, Sammy.” Heidi finally looked up at her cousin, breathless. “Did you call 911?”

  Sammy numbly nodded her head in acknowledgment.

  “They should be here by now!”

  “I’m sure, with the crowds in town and the snow …” Sammy let the words fall numbly from her tongue as Ellie came up behind her and tapped her lightly on the shoulder, interrupting her reverie. “Do you mind if I tell everyone to leave the store? Due to the circumstances, don’t you think you should close up shop tonight?”

  “Yes. Of course.” Sammy shook her head and breathed deep to try to clear the sudden whoosh of thoughts.

  “Heidi, the ambulance is here.” Ellie shoved Sammy to one side to make room for the bodies pushing past them.

  Heidi looked at Sammy. “Go ahead and take care of evacuating the store, and move some of your merchandise racks so we can get a stretcher as close as we can to the window.”

  Sammy felt her head bob in agreement, but her legs still refused to move until her sister looped her by the arm and turned her to face the other direction. “Come on, help me move this rack.” Ellie had already pushed the handmade soap display to one side, using the side of her body for leverage.

  Sammy stood erect and cupped her hands to her mouth. “Attention, customers, we’re closing the store immediately. Please drop your merchandise and head through the back exit to keep the front open for emergency personnel. Thank you!”

  Customers with stricken faces turned to stare at what was happening before they made their way toward the back of the store. Many looked on with horror as one of the ambulance attendants placed a sheet over Wanda’s lifeless body.

  Sammy knew she had to snap out of it. Everyone was doing their part, and here she was standing numbly, trying to focus on what to do next. She reached for the jars of handmade cinnamon-orange–scented candles and began to rapidly pull them off the shelves so she could move the wooden display rack completely out of the way. After the shelf was moved, a stretcher should have enough clearance to push through.

  Wanda dead. Dead in my storefront window!

  Suddenly Sammy’s dog galloped toward her, her nephew and brother-in-law, Randy, lagging not too far behind. Sammy noticed her sister blocking the horrific scene from Tyler’s view and advising her husband to take their son home. Ellie’s mumbling words all seemed to jumble together, and Sammy wondered if she might faint. She took an even, calculated deep breath to prevent herself from falling.

  The sudden surprise of Bara shaking the snow off his fluffy fur brought Sammy back to planet earth despite her woozy head. She leaned down to stroke his wet back and was enormously thankful for the rush of unexpected comfort.

  Deborah Morris, Sammy’s part-time employee, appeared in front of her from behind a merchandise rack. “I’m sorry I’m late. Danny was late plowing the driveway and I couldn’t get out. And then I had to park way down the road.” She removed her gloves, stuffed them in her coat pocket, and then waved an arm dramatically to show how far she must have walked. “Parking is ludicrous tonight. There were absolutely zero spots left out back.” Her long black hair was covered with a snow-covered newsboy cap that was now dripping into her eyes. “And then I tried to come in the back door, and it’s like a mad dash to get out of here. What scared everyone off? What’s going on in here?” Deborah finally caught a visual of the front window, and her dark eyes narrowed in question.

  “Well … it seems … Wanda has passed away.” Sammy could barely get the words out before Deborah interrupted.

  “Wanda? You mean my-yoga-instructor-from-the-rec-center Wanda?” Deborah covered her mouth with a dainty manicured hand. Her fingernails were painted light blue with white snowflakes. The design made her nails look like expensive foiled wrapping paper.

  Sammy’s expression softened.

  “That’s impossible!” Deborah continued. “We just had yoga this morning!”

  Sammy watched as a look of confusion washed over her coworker’s face. “She must have had a heart attack or something.”

  “But how? She’s so healthy! She’s vegan, she works out several times a week, she teaches yo-gaaa! She doesn’t even eat sugar!” Deborah’s soprano voice lifted to an unusual octave, even for her normally feminine voice.

  “I know. I can’t believe it either.”

  “It’s impossible! Incomprehensible!” Deborah’s breaths were coming out fast, as if she were panting like a dog. “Now what do we do?” she asked sullenly, her face turning a deathly shade of white in direct contrast to her deep-black hair.

  Sammy thought Deborah would need a few more minutes to adjust to the horror they were now facing. “Maybe you should take a seat in the office and catch your breath. There are water bottles in the fridge too, if you need something to drink.”

  “No. I mean … who’s going to lead my yoga classes now?”

  Sammy knew her coworker was in shock. Her friend wasn’t being flippant in her remark, merely trying to come to grips with what had happened and the abrupt change brought by the finality of death. She reached for Deborah’s arm and nudged her tiny frame in the direction of the office.

  “Wanda did mention that she wasn’t feeling well this morning. She thought maybe she was catching some type of bug,” Deborah said over her shoulder, as she was now a few feet ahead of Sammy and heading behind the register into the private office. “But she still went on with the class, so she couldn’t have been that sick. Could she? Isn’t an upset stomach a sign for heart attacks in women?”

  “Yeah, honestly, I don’t know. That’s a good question, though, one that Heidi might know the answer to. Sounds like the flu might be coming early this year also; I keep hearing about illness everywhere I go.”

  Just as Sammy was going to follow her coworker inside the office, she was stopped by Heartsford’s only detective on the local police force: Liam Nash. She closed the office door so Deborah could have a private moment and held her hand to the doorknob in case she too needed an easy escape.

  Liam Nash stood tall and his steady frame moved closer. His demeanor filled the room with an aura of control that unnerved her. How could someone be so consistently poised in these types of situations? Sammy hated that the scent of his cologne had such power over her, too. Even in horrible circumstances, her body seemed to react in a way that was grossly inappropriate. She could feel her defenses going up to shield herself from her body’s treachery.

  “Have you missed me?”

  Sammy refused to acknowledge out loud that the detective had been noticeably absent and therefore remained tight-lipped. Sammy wasn’t even sure if he had stayed in Heartsford during the holiday season. She had no idea where he’d been.

  “Do you really have mistletoe hanging above your c
ash register? Or is that some weird random plant hanging from the ceiling?” Detective Nash combed his hand through his thick dark wavy hair peppered with random flecks of white, releasing the snow that clung there. His dark eyes were fixated on the mistletoe.

  Sammy could feel her defenses kicking into overdrive. She had yet to kiss the detective. And even with mistletoe, she didn’t think she’d ever amass the courage to make the first move. How could she have missed removing it when she had worked so hard on all the decorations? She had meant to take it down and had gotten distracted by a phone call. Heidi would probably mysteriously claim she had left it up on purpose—hoping for a kiss, perhaps. Sammy jumped to remove it, but to no avail; she was a few feet too short. “Maybe I was hoping you’d stop by during the holidays and I could use it on you,” she huffed under her breath.

  “What’s that?” He cupped a hand to his ear.

  “Nothing.”

  Detective Nash reached up and with one hand plucked down the mistletoe, dangling from the ceiling with fishing line, and handed it to her. Sammy tossed it atop the cash register, and instead it fell to the ground, where she kicked it underneath the polished wooden counter.

  Feeling a sudden flush on her cheeks, Sammy quickly changed the subject. “An empty store, emergency personnel; I’m guessing you caught the latest news over the police scanner.” Sammy was miffed at Liam Nash. Since he hadn’t been around lately like he usually was, she felt slighted by his recent detachment. The detective just strolls in like weeks haven’t passed and then acts like that’s normal in a relationship. Or friendship. Just friendship, not a relationship, she inwardly corrected herself.

  Her tone must have been a dead giveaway to her irritation, because the detective replied, “What’s wrong with you? Why are you already snipping at me? I’ve barely stepped in your shop, and you’re already biting.” His dark brows came together in a frown.

  He was right. Sammy hated that he was right.

  Sammy breathed deep and crossed her arms across her chest. “I’m sorry. I had such high expectations for tonight. Everything was going so well … and then Wanda goes and dies inside my shop. Forgive me for trying to process.” Sammy blew her breath out with a huff, sending her auburn bangs to fly off her forehead. “I shouldn’t take my stress out on you, though. That’s not fair. But you’re an easy target,” she teased, trying to lighten the mood. “Cookie?” she offered, uncrossing her arms and pointing a finger. Ellie must have filled the cookie plate that she had neglected to put out on the counter. Bless her heart.

  The detective reached out to take the peace offering. “I understand. I’m starting to see the pattern.”

  “Pattern?”

  “Yeah. Pattern.”

  Sammy’s eyebrows were now the ones to narrow in question.

  “You get all stressed out in these situations and then you take it out on me. I think I’m actually getting used to it.” His lips formed a lopsided smile that caused a shiver of electricity to shoot down Sammy’s back. He then took a bite of the cookie, sending crumbs to the ground. He wiped a lingering morsel by licking the glittered sugar from his lips. “Oooh … these are good. I’m guessing that you picked these up from the Sweet Tooth?”

  Sammy forced a smile. She wanted to be that cookie. Again. This was not the time for her body to be reacting in this fashion.

  “What do you think happened to Wanda?”

  “Honestly? I have no idea. I’m guessing she had a heart attack. But no one, including me, can wrap that theory around my head.” Sammy pressed her fingers into her forehead. She was feeling a sudden tension headache coming on.

  “Why not?”

  “Well, from what I hear, she’s a health nut, for one … was a health nut,” Sammy added, correcting herself.

  The detective wolfed down the rest of the cookie and, after wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, reached for another and said, “What do you mean, a health nut?” He cocked his head to one side and shifted his weight to lean against a nearby wooden rack that housed recipe books from local authors and mason jars full of fruits and veggies lovingly canned by nearby farmers hoping to cash in from the summer’s abundance.

  “Apparently Wanda didn’t eat sugar.”

  “Ah.”

  “Be careful there,” Sammy warned as she pointed a finger toward the shelf. “I don’t need you knocking off a full jar of strawberry jam and causing a mess in the store. I think I have enough to contend with at the moment.” Yes. Her head was beginning to throb right between her eyes.

  The detective leaned over and plucked a small jar off the shelf. “Thanks for the reminder. I’m almost out.” He smiled as he tossed the jar up in the air and caught it with one hand. Sammy thought he was trying to show off. She wished he’d dropped it. Then he wouldn’t look so cool, smearing jam everywhere, now, would he?

  “So, why are you here exactly? Is there something I can help you with?” Sammy’s eyes drifted from the detective’s dreamy dark-chocolate eyes to the front of the store, where Wanda’s lifeless body was being wheeled out of Community Craft.

  Heidi was close behind the stretcher with a snow shovel in hand, apparently preparing to remove snow from the walkway so the emergency personnel could get through. Sammy didn’t wait for the detective to reply. She walked briskly past him to the storage room door located at the back of the store, stepped inside, and grabbed another shovel that had been leaning against an inside wall.

  Detective Nash abandoned the mason jar of jam on the polished wood counter by the plate of cookies and proceeded to follow close behind her like a lost child. He then removed the shovel from her grasp.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m helping. Besides, I want to make sure nothing seems amiss.” The detective smiled, showing the tooth slightly jutting from his lower jaw that Sammy had come to love when he grinned. She released her grip. “Fine. I’ll grab another one.”

  As Detective Nash maneuvered the aisles to the front of the store, Sammy retreated to the storage room, and Deborah stepped out of the office and found her. “Anything I can do?” Deborah asked with a sniffle.

  “Nah. Go home. We’re officially closed.” Sammy’s eyes traveled the store and scanned items that had been abandoned and left in disarray in the rush of customers frantic to exit the horror scene. “What a mess,” she uttered under her breath.

  Deborah’s shoulders slumped, and she sniffed again. “Are you sure?” It was obvious she’d been crying inside the office.

  Sammy reached out and gave her coworker a hug. “Yeah, I’m sure. Try and get some rest tonight. I know these things have a way of keeping the mind active long past when we want them too. I don’t mean to be insensitive, but is there any chance you can come in tomorrow? Bright and early before opening at nine, to clean up this mess? I could really use your help, but I understand if you need to take some time.”

  “Totally. You can count on me. It’ll be best if we’re together tomorrow, Sammy. Maybe by then we’ll be able to comprehend all of this.” Deborah wiped her nose with a tissue she had crumpled and hidden in her hand.

  “All righty then,” Sammy affirmed with a weak smile. “I’m heading out front to help plow out the rescue personnel; snow’s piling up. I’ll see you tomorrow. Safe driving, Deborah.”

  “Yeah, okay. See you tomorrow, then.”

  Sammy headed to the front entrance, where the ambulance was now pulling away from the curb. The lack of a siren didn’t hide the bright-red neon flashing lights that sent an eerie reflection into the stone-cold snowy night.

  Chapter Four

  The next morning dawned bright as Sammy rolled onto her side and noted that the corners of her bedroom window were frosted inside her rented Cape Cod. The window sashes in her old rental were ancient and warped and, judging by the snow on the interior, desperately needed replacing. The sunniest days were always the coldest in Wisconsin, as the clouds seemed to have a way of blocking the arctic air.

  Bara bounded into the bed
room and jumped onto her bed, encouraging her to lift her weary body from the comfort of her red-and-white star-patterned quilt. The handmade blanket was the only holiday adornment she had resurrected from the attic after Thanksgiving, as decorating Community Craft always took precedence. Sammy had pieced the quilt the previous year with wool batting that draped beautifully and was surprisingly cozy and warm despite its lack of thickness. The star-patterned quilt was the first she had attempted on her own, and as intricate as it looked, it had been surprisingly easy to piece together. Owning and running the craft shop hadn’t given her a lot of extra time to work on her own handmade projects. Therefore, she’d sewn a seasonal design and decided to display the labor of love on her bed only for the duration of the holiday season. And now her dog was trampling the labor of love before she’d had a chance to put it back in storage for the following holiday season.

  Sammy shooed Bara from the quilt, swung her legs to the side of the bed, and placed her feet on the cold hardwood. The icy floor jolted her awake, and she bent at the waist to peek under the bed for her missing slippers, which of course were nowhere to be found. Instead, a handful of dust bunnies stared back at her. Her lip curled in disgust. She fumbled her way to the long white bureau tucked against the wall and dug out a pair of blue fuzzy socks and immediately covered her feet.

  As she made her way down the oak staircase, the horror of the previous night’s events flooded her mind. She had looked forward to the Fire and Ice event for well over a month, and now, in a flash, it was over. A feeling of dread swept over her as she thought about how Wanda’s family would move forward without her.

  Sammy reached her tiny kitchen and mechanically filled the coffee machine. Before she knew it, the smell of brew tickled her nose and brought a hint of comfort. She hadn’t slept well. Wanda’s untimely death had kept her tossing and turning until the wee hours of the morning. Her phone, sitting on the center island, which was too oversized for the cramped space, beeped a text. This sent instant alarm through her, as the clock on the microwave showed it wasn’t even seven AM.